


Natural

by setepenre_set



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7399540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setepenre_set/pseuds/setepenre_set
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-movie. Megamind explains something about his legal classification to Roxanne, who isn't entirely sure he's not joking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural

**Author's Note:**

> from a tumblr prompt. (I go by setepenre-set there)

“No, but really,” Megamind says, as Roxanne laughs. “You can look it up.”

Roxanne rolls her eyes, waits for the sly smile to come, the ‘I almost had you, didn’t I?’

(Minion is the one who plays those jokes most often, but Megamind comes out with them sometimes, too, infrequently enough that it’s often really difficult to catch. But honestly, this is really too ridiculous for him to expect her to—)

But the smirk doesn’t come; Megamind just keeps looking at her.

Is—is he—?

“Are you serious?” Roxanne asks, raising her eyebrows. “You—Megamind. You actually expect me to believe that you’re legally classified as a—”

“Natural disaster, yes,” Megamind says. He looks down at the blueprints in front of him, frowns, makes a mark.

Roxanne waits for him to continue. (To laugh, to—to tell her he’s joking—)

She sets her coffee down on the console, crosses to Megamind, hops up to sit on the lab table he’s drawing on. She puts her fingertips on his cheek, turns his face towards her. Megamind lets her do it, even going so far as to shift his chair so that it’s facing her and tip his face up so he can look at her fully.

Megamind’s like that, Roxanne’s coming to realize. She gives the slightest indication that she wants his attention, and he just—focuses entirely, his whole being completely intent on her, like—like a heliotropic flower, turning itself towards the sun.

(Roxanne has never felt brighter, more important, and more beautiful, than she does when Megamind is looking at her.)

Just now he’s looking at her with an inquiring expression, over the look of affection that is always there.

“—you’re serious,” Roxanne says, realization dawning.

“Hmm?” Megamind says, blinking. “Oh. About—the natural disaster thing? Yes—I—I had that done years ago.” He smiles at her, simple and sweet, as though this is a perfectly normal thing to say.

“Wh—how?” Roxanne asks.

“Bribery,” Megamind said, shrugging and twirling the drafting pencil between his fingers. “Lots of bribery. I—well,” he clears his throat awkwardly, looks down, sets the pencil on the table, “—slight bit of blackmail?” He nudges the pencil so that it’s parallel with the edge of the table, “—But mostly bribery,” he continues, eyes still on the pencil, “And blackmail over taking bribes? I’m not really sure if that counts as bribery or blackmail…”

“Why?” Roxanne asks, baffled.

“Oh! For insurance,” Megamind says, looking up at her. “So that people could—”

He blushes, suddenly, ears and cheekbones flushing. Roxanne, her hand still on his face, feels his skin go hot beneath her fingertips.

“—so that people could—?” Roxanne prompts, placing her hand flat on his cheek, stroking her thumb over his heated cheekbone.

Megamind turns his head to kiss her palm, hiding his face against her hand, and mutters—

“—damage to property due to—battles— _you_ know. When people’s homes got—ruined—it didn’t seem—fair to expect them to—not everyone can afford—”

“You got yourself classified as a natural disaster so that people—could get reimbursed by their insurance companies—when you damaged their homes? Due to—”

“Yes,” Megamind says, face still hidden in her palm.

(due to battles, he’d said, but he’d also said I had that done years ago, so that meant—)

“You had this done when you were _still_ _a_ _supervillain_?” Roxanne asks.

Megamind looks up at her, makes a face.

“Yes,” he says, like he’s _admitting_ to something. He drops his eyes, then looks up at her again, through his lashes.

Roxanne looks down at him, heart aching sweetly in her chest.

God, she is perpetually caught off guard by how—he’s just so—he’s—

—he’s like one of those idea clouds of his, the ones made out of string and sketches and scraps of paper, the ones that only make sense when you start looking at them the right way—

(Roxanne is looking at him the right way now)

She leans down to kiss him, intending it as a quick, affectionate gesture. But then he makes a surprised noise of pleasure and presses up into the kiss and so _naturally_ Roxanne has to slide her hand around the back of his neck and lick into his mouth. And then he places one hand on her knee and strokes her skin and curls his tongue around hers and makes another lovely little noise for her, and—

Roxanne climbs into Megamind’s lap, knees on either side of his hips in the tall-backed leather chair, his hand on her knee sliding, quite naturally, beneath her skirt, his other arm wrapping around her waist, both her hands behind his head now as she kisses him.

(Megamind doesn’t get any more drafting done that afternoon.)


End file.
